


Friends Don't

by 1001lifetimes



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1001lifetimes/pseuds/1001lifetimes
Summary: Scott realizes that he and Isaac are closer than most friends, but he can’t seem to figure out why.Inspired by the song by Maddie and Tae
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall
Comments: 8
Kudos: 128





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place sometime during season 3, but I've aged up the characters because I wanted Stiles to be of age. It's also my first fic ever, and I'm not super happy with it, but here you go.
> 
> This is 100% inspired by the song "Friends Don't" by Maddie and Tae because I'm going through a country phase.

Scott and Isaac are friends. They hang out outside of school, they study together, they sit together at lunch. It’s all normal friend stuff, nothing he wouldn’t do with Stiles (although it was slightly to the exclusion of doing those things with Stiles until Stiles had called him out on it).

If he and Isaac touch a lot, Scott chalks that up to a lot of things. For one thing, they’re both lacrosse players, which means that they have ample opportunities for both wrestling and celebratory hugging on a near daily basis. For another, they’re both werewolves, and werewolves are naturally tactile. Even Derek has taken to touching Scott and Stiles more (granted, mostly Stiles, and at least half of that is more aggressive than it is friendly). But most importantly, he touches Isaac because Isaac needs it. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Isaac hasn’t had enough of that normal, affectionate sort of touching in his life, and Scott’s in a position to change that.

So, every time Isaac slides up to his side during practice, or wraps his arms around Scott for a hug, Scott lets him. He even encourages it, leaning in to the touch to let Isaac know that it’s okay. It becomes natural. 

Sure, it escalates a bit over time. Now when they settle down to watch a movie, Isaac’s head is in Scott’s lap more often than not, and when they’re standing next to each other, Scott’s arms naturally gravitate towards Isaac’s waist.

And sure, Lydia and his mom shoot him knowing looks sometimes, but Lydia and his mom are always doing that, so it doesn’t prompt any particular self-reflection.  
It’s only when Coach Finstock tells Scott to keep his foreplay with Lahey off the field and get back to the game that it occurs to Scott that he and Isaac might touch an abnormal amount.

He doesn’t mind it, not really. As long as neither he nor Isaac feels uncomfortable, he’s sure their other friends can suck up any weirdness they have about seeing two guys be affectionate with one another. But he is curious. What is it about Isaac that brings out this side of Scott?

Scott finds himself thinking about it in their quiet moments together (which are pretty frequent now that Isaac has moved in with him and his mom). Now when they’re watching a movie together, Scott will catch his fingers threading themselves gently into Isaac’s hair. He’ll find himself watching the way Isaac’s mouth moves whenever something funny happens on screen, and he’ll wonder why he can’t seem to tear his eyes away to see what it is that Isaac’s laughing at. Then Isaac will catch his eye and smile at him, and Scott will think it’s because Isaac is just so good. 

It’s hard to remember how he could possibly have thought of Isaac as a threat when it’s so clear to Scott that the only thing Isaac ever needed was someone to care about and to care about him. Isaac loves helping others, it’s clear in the way he goes out of his way to quiz Scott before their chem tests, or to take half of Stiles’s pile of research for himself, or to bake Lydia’s favorite cookies for her whenever he has the time (Isaac does anything he possibly can to help Lydia in particular, his way of apologizing for that whole ‘tried to kill her’ thing).

It’s clear in the way Isaac does anything he can around the house to make himself helpful. It takes Scott and his mom a week to convince Isaac that he doesn’t have to do everyone’s laundry for them or wake up early to empty the dishwasher every day. He still takes the trash out more than his fair share and makes his bed every morning, but Scott counts it as an improvement anyway. 

The only thing they haven’t been able to get Isaac to budge on is the cooking. Whenever Scott’s mom has a late shift, Isaac insists upon making dinner for himself and Scott (and always carefully wraps up an extra portion with a little sticky note that says “Melissa” for whenever she gets back). It starts off simple, just instant ramen or sandwiches, but pretty soon the meals start to get more complicated. When Scott comes home from studying with Stiles one day to find Isaac making pizza from scratch, Scott finally takes Isaac’s hands in his own and says, “you don’t have to cook, you know. You’re staying either way.”

Isaac gives him a smile that looks more like a frown, then stares down at their joint hands. “I used to love cooking,” he says. “Before.”

Scott doesn’t ask if he means before his brother died or before the whole werewolf thing, he just nods and squeezes Isaac’s hands before setting up his homework at the kitchen table. He even offers to help, but Isaac tells him he’s better off using the time to study, which Scott thinks is for the best because he’s pretty sure if he tries to do anything more complicated than put a piece of bread in the toaster he’ll burn the kitchen down. 

It becomes their routine. Scott sits at the table and studies while Isaac tries out new recipes, every once in a while convincing Scott to take a break and try some of whatever he’s making. It turns out to be a godsend for Scott’s grades, which benefit both from the designated time set aside for Scott to do his work and Isaac’s willingness and ability to answer any questions Scott has without looking away from their dinner.

Recently, though, Scott’s been getting more and more distracted by watching Isaac cook. When Isaac first starts, he’s tentative and almost clinical when he approaches recipes, painstakingly measuring each ingredient to the exact amount the recipe calls for (Scott hates it, how disciplined Isaac is, because he knows exactly where it comes from). Over the weeks, he starts to loosen up a bit, adding in extra ingredients or substituting the things he doesn’t like for things he does. Now when he cooks, he smiles the whole time, perfectly content and completely invested in what he’s doing. 

Scott thinks Isaac cooking might objectively be the most beautiful thing in the world. 

Scott gets so used to Isaac’s smile that it takes less than a second for him to notice that it’s missing when he walks into the kitchen to see Isaac pulling out the ingredients for a risotto with a pained look on his face. Scott’s at his side in a second, pulling Isaac in for a hug without a second thought. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, quiet enough that the only reason Isaac hears it is because of his werewolf senses. 

“Yeah,” Isaac whispers against his shoulder. “It’s just...this was my brother’s favorite recipe. He used to let me help him with it, nothing big, but I felt so grown up.” He laughs, and Scott feels it more than he hears it. Then Isaac’s voice goes dry. “I tried to make it once, after. But my dad…” Isaac flinches at the memory, and Scott thinks that if Isaac’s father wasn’t already dead he might kill him himself. Scott holds Isaac even tighter, and he thinks he might even growl, possessive and protective and entirely primal. Isaac just laughs again and buries his nose into Scott’s neck. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “I want to do this.” Scott lets Isaac go so that he can look into Isaac’s eyes. 

“Are you sure? We can order pizza instead.” Isaac just shakes his head, then smiles. 

“I’m sure. I trust you.” 

Scott swells with pride, and affection, and something deeper. He nods and goes back to the table, but he barely looks at his homework at all, content in watching Isaac instead. 

“Well, isn’t this just the picture of domestic bliss,” a voice says from the doorway. Scott turns to see Lydia leaning casually against his wall looking simultaneously bored and amused. “Stiles wanted me to stop by and warn you both that there’s some sort of stray wolf out there, and to be careful. He would have come himself, but apparently he and Derek are busy having a little ‘strategy session’ at his place right now.” 

Scott’s about to thank Lydia and apologize for inconveniencing her when Isaac responds instead. “Well, sucks that you got stuck with messenger duty, but look at it this way: if they finally admit their feelings for each other this time, you’ll get all the credit.”

Lydia laughs, and Isaac shoots her a grin from where he’s still standing over the pot of risotto. Scott looks between them, fascinated. It’s not the Stiles and Derek thing--of course he’s noticed that-- what interests him now is the obvious ease between Isaac and Lydia. They’re clearly better friends than he realized.

“I think you might be giving them too much credit, but we can hope.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s been long enough that they might actually get their act together. They have too much unresolved sexual tension not to do something about it eventually."

Lydia looks at Isaac for a second, flicks her gaze significantly towards Scott, then flicks it back to Isaac. “Yeah, they have unresolved sexual tension,” she agrees, although she sounds oddly sarcastic to Scott’s ears. 

Isaac fakes a little pout and says, “I’m working on it,” before shooing her out the door with his spatula. 

“Bye, Scott,” Lydia calls, closing the door behind her. Scott blinks in confusion. 

"What was that all about?” 

Isaac just shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Here, come taste this.” Scott lets Isaac pull him up and shove the spatula covered in risotto into his mouth. They drop the subject, partially because Scott makes it a rule never to pressure Isaac into talking about things he doesn’t want to, and partially because the risotto is really, really good. 

Still, Scott finds himself repeating the conversation over and over in his mind. He can’t help but feel that he’s missing something in it, something important for him to realize. And then it hits him: Lydia had called them a “picture of domestic bliss.” Maybe the fact that Isaac was living with Scott now had somehow strengthened their bond to one another. It actually makes a lot of sense; werewolves are stronger together. 

He mulls over his new theory for days, trying to determine if he’s actually on to something or if he’s just overanalyzing a relationship with a close friend. 

“So, uh, you know how Isaac and I are really close, right?” Scott asks Stiles on their way to school. Scott isn’t really thinking much when he says it, it just sort of slips out, but for some reason Stiles yanks the car over to the side of the road and slams on the break.

“Dude, what the hell?” Scott asks, after regaining his ability to breath. Stiles has the audacity to not even look apologetic. Actually, he’s looking strangely serious and weirdly.... intense. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Are you kidding? We’re finally gonna talk about this, that’s why.” Stiles still has the weird look on his face, but Scott accepts that incredibly cryptic answer. He had no idea his bond with Isaac has been weighing on Stiles so much. Maybe Stiles wasn’t actually over the whole jealous of Scott spending so much time with Isaac thing that had started to drive a wedge between them.

“Um, okay. Well, I mean we just, you know. We touch a lot.” Stiles narrows his eyes.

“Okay...That’s a weird way to put it that could easily veer into some serious oversharing, but I’m with you.”

Scott really isn’t sure what to do with that, so he just blinks and moves on. “Just--I know we touch more than most friends do. And, like, I always want to be around him. When I wake up in the middle of the night after a nightmare, he’s the person that I want to call.” Scott pauses for a second. “No offense.”

“Absolutely none taken,” Stiles says, then gestures for Scott to continue.

“I don’t know, it’s just that every time I think about my future now, he’s always in it.” Scott’s pretty much done, but Stiles is still looking at him expectantly, so he stammers out his half-formed plan. “Well, I was just wondering if you thought maybe I should talk to Derek about it? Because I think it might be a werewolf thing, like maybe because we’re living together now, our wolves are extra connected or something.”

Stiles looks at him for a moment, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “This is my own fault. I had too much faith in you, and I should have known better.”

Scott has no idea what Stiles is talking about, but he knows when he’s being insulted. “Rude,” he pouts. “And very unhelpful. Do you think I should talk to him or not?”

Stiles just stares at Scott like he’s contemplating slamming his own head into the steering wheel repeatedly. Scott’s about to question it when Stiles finally says “You know what? Go for it. I’m sure Darek will be very helpful.” Something about Stiles’s tone makes Scott think that he’s still missing something important, but he decides to take his best friend at his word. After all, he trusts Stiles not to purposefully lead him astray.


	2. Chapter 2

Seven hours of school, two hours of running suicides at practice, and one very uncomfortable conversation with Derek later, Scott is starting to reevaluate his friendship with Stiles. Derek had been not at all helpful, and Scott has a sneaking suspicion that Stiles won’t be at all surprised to hear it. 

Right on cue, Scott’s phone rings. He picks it up and is greeted to an entirely too cheerful Stiles on the other end. 

“So, how’d it go? Does Derek think that you and Isaac are extra special werewolf friends?”

“You’re the worst,” Scott grumbles, but they both know he doesn’t really mean it.

“Aw, come on, you gotta give me more than that. For real, what did he say?” Stiles actually sounds somewhat serious, so Scott sighs and tells him.

“He said, ‘tell Stiles he was right, you are an idiot,’ and ‘this is not a werewolf problem, and it’s definitely not a Derek problem’ and something else about being too young to deal with teenage stupidity.”

Stiles laughs so hard he starts choking, and Scott’s now 100% sure that this whole conversation was a set up. Luckily, he has an ace up his sleeve. 

“So, when, exactly, did you tell Derek I’m an idiot? Because my hearing is pretty good, so I think I probably would have heard that happen. Unless, of course, you guys have been hanging out without me?” Scott doesn’t even try to be subtle. This is his revenge, after all. Stiles stops laughing and starts fumbling for an excuse. 

“Oh, you know, it was probably--uh, probably during one of our... strategy sessions. We do a lot of strategy sessions while all you guys are training. So, you know, you weren’t there.”

Scott laughs. “Oh, strategy sessions. Of course.” He knows full well that Stiles and Derek aren’t actually having sex, he’d be able to smell it if they were. But he also knows from that same sense of smell that Derek is in Stiles’s room from around 9:00-11:00 every night, and he doubts that Derek is there just to talk strategy. 

“Whatever, we aren’t supposed to be talking about me right now. Where are you, anyway? Aren’t you supposed to be hanging out with Isaac?” Scott sees through Stiles’s subject change immediately, but the mention of his plans with Isaac puts him in too good of a mood to actually call him out on it. 

“Yeah,” he says, because what else is there to add?

“Oh, gross, I can actually hear you smiling. This is going to be even worse than Allison I can already tell.” Scott isn’t sure what Stiles means by that, but Stiles keeps going before he gets the chance to ask. “Aren’t you running late? Isaac left here at like 7:45 because he said you were meeting at 8:00.” 

That brings up a whole mix of emotions that Scott isn’t sure what to do with, ranging from pleased that Isaac left Stiles’s house early to meet with Scott to jealous that Isaac and Stiles were hanging out without him.

“Isaac was at your house?” The words slip out before he even realizes what he’s saying, and he can’t help but cringe at the very obvious possessiveness in his tone. He reminds himself that his friends are allowed to have other friends, and that actually Stiles and Isaac getting along is good for him, but somehow it doesn’t really help. 

Stiles mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “I swear these dumb wolves will be the death of me one day” before actually speaking into the phone. “I can’t believe I’m going to feed into your ridiculousness by saying this--because, newsflash, Isaac and I are actually friends--but he was only over at my house to finish a chem lab, and we spent the whole time talking about you, anyway.” Before Scott can investigate the immense pleasure that piece of information brings him, Stiles continues. “So, do you want me to tell Isaac you’re running late or not?”

Scott shakes his head, although he knows Stiles can’t actually see him. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m walking back from Derek’s right now but as soon as we’re done talking I can run.” Stiles is silent for a moment. 

“Is that your way of telling me to shut up so you can get to Isaac faster?” When Scott doesn’t answer, Stiles just sighs. “So much worse than Allison. Alright, permission to hang up granted. Have fun with the pup.”

“Thanks, man, you’re the best!” Scott says, and then he hangs up with absolutely no regret. He’s still smiling as he tucks his phone into his pocket and double checks that his backpack is attached securely to his body before crouching down in preparation to run. He’s about to take off when he gets kidnapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is super short and I almost combined it with the next one but I decided to end it here for the ~drama~. The next one will be out soon though.


	3. Chapter 3

As far as kidnappings go, it could have been a lot worse.

Somebody puts a bag over his head, and Scott barely even gets the chance to sniff them and determine that they’re a werewolf before they hit him in the head and everything goes black. 

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in a dark room. He hears the click of a lock somewhere, but he doesn’t have the time to actually find the door before the blackness overtakes him again.

Scott spends the rest of his kidnapping unconscious, knocked out by some sort of Wolfsbane gas that comes in through the vents, and also probably concussed from his head injury. He barely even remembers the pain, but he knows it must have been bad based on how awful it is when he finally wakes up. 

The first few seconds are disorienting. He sees light, and hears the sound of people whispering around him, but his head throbs too much for him to make sense of any of it. He squeezes his eyes shut until his head doesn’t feel like it’s about to split in half, and then he takes in his surroundings. 

He’s on Deaton’s surgical table, never a good sign. Derek and Stiles are standing over him, arguing about something so intently that they haven’t noticed he’s awake yet. Deaton is nowhere to be seen and a quick scan of the heartbeats in the building tell Scott that he’s nowhere nearby. Scott starts to slowly lift himself up but a sharp pain in his stomach stops him. He looks down reluctantly and finds his entire torso covered in blood.

“Scott?” Stiles’s voice cuts through his panic. “Scott, you need to lie down.”

“I--What happened?” The words come out soft and confused. 

“You got kidnapped by an Omega. He tore you up pretty badly while you were unconscious. He might even have killed you if Derek hadn’t gotten there so fast. Deaton says you should take it easy and let yourself heal. He doesn’t think it’ll be too long, but he’s talking to your mom right now to give her an update.”

Scott nods, too busy trying to ignore the pain to really pay attention to Stiles’s somewhat rambly rundown of how they found him. Apparently, Isaac had called Derek when Scott hadn’t made it home on time and Derek had tracked his scent to the Omega’s hideout. 

“Wait, I don’t understand,” Scott says. “What did an Omega want with me?”

Derek speaks for the first time since Scott woke up. “As far as we can tell, his goal was to get to me through my pack. You were nothing more than a message.”

Scott must look skeptical, because Stiles jumps in to give him a play by play of every interaction they had with the Omega that led them to this conclusion. When Scott points out that he’s not even part of Derek’s pack, he doesn’t miss the look Stiles and Derek exchange before Stiles says, “No. But we think that you smell enough like Isaac that they couldn’t tell.” 

That, more than anything that has happened today, sends a bolt of fear down Scott’s spine. If they took him because he smelled like Isaac, then Isaac could still be in danger. “Isaac--” Scott starts, shooting up to head for the door. 

“Isaac is fine,” Derek says firmly, pushing him back down. Scott glances at Stiles, who nods his confirmation. 

“He’s with Lydia and Allison right now eating dinner. Although I’d be surprised if he manages to eat anything. It took Lydia--that’s right, ‘I could kill you with one bat of my eyelashes’ Lydia--twenty minutes to convince him you’d be fine if he left you here, and I’m still not sure he believes it. I swear, the two of you--” Stiles cuts off when he catches sight of the death glare Derek shoots him. “Are not what’s important right now. But anyway, we think all of you should be safe now that Derek’s dealt with the Omega. Oh man, you should have seen it. If I were that wolf I’d never come within 20 miles of this place again.”

Stiles continues to ramble, but Scott tunes him out, mostly uninterested now that Stiles has confirmed that there’s no real threat to him or Isaac anymore. As soon as Deaton clears him, he gets up to start heading home. He isn’t necessarily surprised when Stiles insists on driving him (citing the fact that the last time he walked by himself he got kidnapped as a reason not to let him leave by himself) but it doesn’t stop him from protesting. 

“I appreciate the offer but I’m fine. You can’t always be around to drive me places, so we might as well get used to that idea now.” Stiles isn’t at all impressed with that argument, and when his best approximation of a death glare doesn’t work on Scott, he turns it on Derek. It’s fascinating, really, watching them have a whole conversation like this. Derek keeps raising his eyebrows and Stiles keeps narrowing his eyes and Scott can’t make heads or tails of it until Derek throws up his hands in surrender and says, “Scott, do us both a favor, and get in the car.”

Scott does. He doesn’t really mind the fact that Stiles wants to protect him, he just knows that if he were walking home right now he wouldn’t be going home at all, he’d be checking on Isaac. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Derek and Stiles when they say he’s fine, he does. He’d just...feel better if he saw it first hand. 

Actually, now that he thinks about, it’s very possible that this whole “drive Scott home” thing was secretly a ploy to make sure he goes straight to bed instead of making stops. Scott glances suspiciously at Stiles, but Stiles seems too lost in his own thoughts to be actively manipulating him like that.

They sit in silence for another minute before Scott decides he needs some sort of conversation to distract himself from his growing Isaac related anxieties. “Did you know that you and Derek communicate at least fifty percent through intense eye contact?” Stiles’s head jerks up towards him at that, and Scott laughs, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m just saying…”

Stiles groans. “Oh, really? That you catch?” There’s something strange about the way Stiles emphasizes the word “that” but Scott is too busy laughing to care. 

“Aww, come on, Stiles. Don’t you want to talk about it? You and Derek basically act like an old married couple anyway, you might as well actually be one.”

Stiles shakes his head vigorously. “Dude, I am 18 years old as of a month ago, I’m not gonna get married anytime soon.” Then he seems to realize what he’s just said and hurries to add, “Not that I want to marry Derek or anything,” which just makes Scott laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise Isaac will actually be in the next one.


	4. Chapter 4

When Scott gets home, he’s greeted by an empty house. His mom has left him a note on the fridge telling him that she’s working the night shift and reminding him to eat something, so he wanders into the kitchen. In the fridge he finds some of Isaac’s leftover risotto, which he puts in a bowl without even bothering to warm it up. He smiles at the memory of Isaac making it, then frowns, wishing Isaac were here. 

He’s barely had two bites of the risotto when he hears a car pull up, and he all but jumps out of his seat. By the time Isaac actually walks through the door, Scott is itching to pull him into his arms and confirm that he’s safe, but Isaac just stands in the doorway and fiddles with his keys. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Scott asks, moving carefully towards Isaac. Isaac gives a short, humorless laugh in response. 

“Yeah, I’m just--I’m so sorry, Scott.” Scott stares at him, confused.

“What for?” 

Isaac looks away. “Derek told me they only took you because you smell so much like me.” His voice is soft and quiet, so it takes Scott a moment to figure out what he means. 

“Isaac.” Scott says, and he’s pretty sure he could kill Derek for making Isaac think that this is somehow his fault. “If I didn’t smell like you, I’d smell like Stiles, and you and I both know that’s basically the same thing as smelling like Derek. The Omega would have taken me anyway.” 

Isaac nods unhappily at that, but he’s still avoiding eye contact, so Scott pulls him into a hug. “I’m okay, see?” Scott whispers against Isaac’s ear. “I’m okay.” Isaac is shaking now, and Scott can feel his unsteady breaths against his skin.

“You don’t understand what it was like for me. I tracked you all the way to that horrible place, but I couldn’t handle it--knowing someone had you. Derek made me wait when he went in, he didn’t trust me not to lose control. He was probably right, but waiting there...I kept thinking what I would do if you didn’t make it. And then Derek came out and he had you in his arms and there was so much blood--” Isaac’s voice breaks, and when Scott looks up he sees that Isaac’s crying. 

It feels like second nature to place his lips carefully over the tear as it falls down Isaac’s cheek. The tear itself is salty, but Isaac’s skin is soft and sweet against Scott’s mouth, and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed. Isaac’s breath catches, and for a second Scott thinks that maybe he’s overstepped, but then, ever so carefully, Isaac presses his lips to Scott’s forehead. 

After that it’s constant contact, Isaac’s mouth against Scott’s hair and Scott’s moving up and down Isaac’s jaw. It’s almost primal, a deep set desire in both of them to gain reassurance that the other really is there. Every once in a while, Scott will whisper “I’m okay,” and see Isaac’s eyes flash amber as he buries his nose in Scott’s hair. All five of Scott’s senses are overwhelmed with Isaac, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Finally, Scott rests his head gently on Isaac’s shoulder. “Friends don’t do this,” Scott says quietly, and he really isn’t sure what he’s getting at but somehow it feels important for him to say. Isaac freezes, then pulls back from Scott so that they’re looking into each other's eyes. 

“No,” Isaac agrees. “But we do.” And for a moment his gaze is a challenge, daring Scott to--to do something, Scott can’t quite tell. Then Isaac looks down, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “I mean, if this is okay with you. I wouldn’t--I mean if you want to stop, I under--”

“No!” Scott interrupts, suddenly wishing he hadn’t said anything. “No, I don’t. Want to stop. I--I like this.” Scott feels awkward saying it out loud, but Isaac beams, and it all seems worth it again. 

“I like this, too,” Isaac tells him, and then they’re back in each other’s arms, swaying gently to the sound of their matching heartbeats. Isaac buries his face in Scott’s hair, and Scott hums into Isaac’s neck, and they only pull apart when Scott starts falling asleep standing up. 

Isaac helps Scott into bed, a warm, steady force against his side that Scott misses the second Isaac pulls away. His eyes are heavy and his limbs feel almost paralyzed with exhaustion, but it doesn’t stop him from reaching out and grabbing Isaac’s hand. “Stay,” he says, and Isaac looks at him, startled.

“Are you sure?”

Scott tugs him down next to him, curling against Isaac’s familiar, comforting form. After a second, Isaac relaxes, slowly nestling his nose into Scott’s shoulder. Isaac’s breathing steadies in a matter of minutes, and Scott smiles into the darkness, letting the rise and fall of Isaac’s chest lull him to sleep.

Scott wakes up to a text from Stiles telling him that he and Derek think the attack on him might not be isolated, and asking him to call when he can. Isaac is still asleep next to him, curled up with his head nestled against Scott’s neck. Scott double checks the time on his phone--it’s nearly 10:00--and let’s himself revel in the fact that this is the latest he’s ever seen Isaac sleep in. Scott takes a moment to gently brush his thumb against Isaac’s cheek, then carefully extricates himself from the bed. 

Once he’s safely in the bathroom, he calls Stiles. 

“What’s the situation?” He asks, prompting to Stiles to feign an outraged little gasp.

“Well, good morning to you too, Scott.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Scott grumbles, but he actually is having a good morning, so it comes out cheerful. “Is my life in mortal danger or not?”

Stiles sighs dramatically, but answers without any further complaints. “Probably not? But apparently the Omega that kidnapped you was part of a larger plan to kill Derek that involves a whole group of wolves the Hale family pissed off back in the day.”

“Okay. Do we know who these people are? Should we be trying to stop them?”

“No, it’ll be easier to just let them come to us. Derek is pretty sure that they’re a pack that the Hale family split up--it’s a long story--but that means they should all be Omegas, so none of them poses too much of a threat. Derek did say that you and Isaac should stick together until all of this is sorted out, though.” He pauses. “Well, you know, even more than you already do. The two of you should be able to handle any attacks easily.”

Scott doesn’t think he’ll mind having an excuse not to leave Isaac’s side, but he’s not sure how he feels about letting the Omegas come to them. “What about you?” he asks. “Are you going to be safe? I know you’re not technically pack but you smell--”

“Like Derek, yeah, I know. We talked about it. He said he’s gonna start keeping watch over me whenever my dad’s not around. Which I still think sounds kinda creepy, but what can you do.”

“I don’t know, man. This feels like a good step in your ten year plan to marry Derek.” Scott’s voice is teasing as he says it, but Stiles chokes. He hears some mild commotion on Stiles’s side of the phone, and then Stiles whispering “not right now” and that’s when he realizes. 

“Stiles,” he says, not quite keeping the laughter out of his voice. “Is Derek there right now?” 

“Um,” Stiles says. “Yes, we decided that he should probably spend the night here for some… research.”

“Of course. Research.” Scott’s fully laughing now, and Stiles’s dramatic groan only makes him laugh harder. 

“Oh, shut up. Don’t even pretend you and Isaac didn’t sleep together last night. Melissa sent me a picture of you two cuddling, I have evidence.”

Scott would respond with a comeback about how all they did was literally sleep together, but he’s too distracted by the thought of Isaac’s bright curls pressed against his pillows, the content smile on Isaac’s mouth as he had slept against Scott’s shoulder, and how much he had wanted to kiss it before getting out of bed this morning. 

"Holy shit,” he breathes, because he can’t believe how stupid he’s been. 

“Scott? Scott, are you still there?” But all Scott can do is repeat his earlier sentiment because oh my god he’s such an idiot. 

“Oh my God,” Stiles says. “Did you finally get it? I can’t believe it. Don’t worry, I’ll send you the photo, it’ll be perfect for your phone background. You know--” But Scott will never know, because he hangs up the phone and runs back to his room. 

When he opens the door, he finds Isaac sitting up, a small smile on his face. “Good morning,” he says, his voice the perfect, sleepy kind of soft. His curls shine in the sun streaming through the window, and he rubs his pretty blue eyes a couple of times before smiling sheepishly at Scott. “Who was that on the phone?” Then he frowns a bit. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, it’s just, you know, werewolf hearing.” 

Isaac looks like he wants to explain himself more, but Scott doesn’t give him the chance. He makes it to the bed in record time, carefully pressing his mouth against Isaac’s. He can feel Isaac’s surprised gasp and it’s heaven, but it has nothing on the moment that Isaac starts kissing him back. The kiss is gentle and sweet and so so achingly Isaac that the force of it almost knocks Scott back. When they finally break apart, they’re both smiling. 

“I don’t wanna be just friends,” Scott whispers, still inches from Isaac’s face. Isaac’s shy smile is brighter than the gold flash of his eyes. 

“Yeah?” He asks, voice soft and happy and just a little uncertain. 

“Yeah,” Scott says. Then he sweeps back in to kiss any remaining uncertainty away.


End file.
